


Deception

by JiHan_Minsungie



Series: Why Can't Sam Ever Catch A Break? [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Injured Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiHan_Minsungie/pseuds/JiHan_Minsungie
Summary: Sam is in critical condition after a hunt gone wrong with Mary and Ketch. A secret is blown, and Dean's protectiveness rears it's head, refusing to let his little brother get hurt, again.





	Deception

**Author's Note:**

> The strong bond between Sam and Dean, who have been through thick and thin, brings Supernatural together as a whole. I love their relationship.

Dean glared.

Bottles of whiskey littered the cheap motel room. Cigarette butts were tucked into any corner available, its ash dusting the tan carpet. Roaches scurried, making themselves at home. Mold crept down from the ceiling. Cracks branched out, decorating the dirty walls. The vents were sealed, trapping the space with humidity. Windows were cracked and pathetically covered with duct tape.

Mary slept, the earlier vampire hunt tiring her out. It managed to dig their nails into her forearm, tearing through muscle and sinew. Dean ordered Mary to cover it up with a cloth; he didn’t need blood all over his leather seats. He stitched her up once they returned, ignoring her squirming. (And if the needle jabbed her more times than necessary, well, nobody needed to know.) How was Mary resting as if everything was fixed? As if everything was back to normal? His brother, her _son_ , was in the bunker injured. Sam tried to reassure him that he was going to be okay, but Dean wasn’t going to let him hunt in that condition. Seven cracked ribs, a shattered wrist, and dislocated shoulder were more important than never ending monsters.

Dean’s phone blared, shattering the contemplative silence. He scrambled to reach it, barely managing to answer on the second ring. “Sammy? Are you alright?”

“No, Dean. Sam is---”

“Where’s Sam, Castiel? Why are you answering his phone?” Dean panicked, his imagination getting the better of him.

“He’s slowly making progress, Dean. I was able to heal his shoulder and wrist, but, strangely, his ribs refuse to do the same. An hour ago, Sam got up to move around and fainted. We’re at the hospital now. He’s been taken in for surgery.”

“What does Sam need surgery for, Castiel?,” Dean shouted into the receiver. “What’s going on?”

“One of his ribs perforated his lung during the fall. Sam was given an X-ray and when the results came back, he was immediately taken into the operating room. The doctor said that Sam might succumb to---”

Dean angrily hung up. He packed all of their hunting equipment and shoved it in the trunk. Mary wouldn’t get out of bed, so he dragged her and laid her down in the backseat. Metallica drowned out Dean’s thoughts. He hummed as he drove, breaking multiple laws as he raced back to Lebanon, Kansas. Mary woke up when Dean flew by the halfway mark. She groaned as several cracks were heard while she stretched. A loud thump resonated. Mary glared at him through the rear view mirror as he snickered, unable to contain his glee.

“Dean?”

He lowered the volume. “Yes?”

“Where are we headed to? We never finished destroying the nest. There were a few more left.”

Dean’s left eye twitched.”Sam needs me right now.”

“Your brother is strong, Dean. He’ll be fine in the bunker with Castiel. He doesn’t need you watching over him,” Mary consoled, trying to placate him.

Dean pulled over and turned to face her, his green eyes darkening. “Sam is in the hospital from that last hunt. He wouldn’t even be in there if it wasn’t for your recklessness. Now sit back, relax, and shut your fucking cakehole.”

“I’m your mother, Dean. Respect me.”

“My mother died in a fire on November 2, 1983.” Mary’s eyes shone with hurt, but Dean glanced away and started his Impala, wanting the road trip to be over as soon as possible. A faint whisper reached his ears and Dean turned up the volume.

It was just past 8:15pm once Dean burst through the hospital, demanding to see his brother. The receptionist startled, dropping some files. His patience, held on by a thread, snapped once it became clear that he wasn’t going to receive an answer. His hands shot out and grabbed their collar, hoisting them to meet his eyes. They squeaked and blurted out the room number. Dean grinned, placed them back in the chair, and wiped off the imaginary dust on their shoulders. Sam was asleep when Dean quietly entered. An IV snuck under the blanket, presumably located in his wrist. Dean walked over and gently pressed his head against Sam’s chest, the steady heartbeat easing his nerves.

“Dean.” Warm air ghosted the back of his neck.

Dean slid his gun out of his jeans, ready to fight whoever came to harm Sam. He pointed it at the intruder, only to sigh. “Cas. Didn’t we talk about personal space?”

Castiel looked troubled. “Dean, there’s something  you need to know.”

~

“...me? Mr. Winchester? Sam is ready to be discharged.” Dean jerked back to reality. He filled out the paperwork while the doctor droned on about how to properly care for the wounds. Taking care of Sam was his specialty. Dean helped Sam lean against his shoulder, dismissing the strain his brother’s lanky frame put on his body. Castiel and Mary followed them out of the waiting room. Dean didn’t spare them a thought as he gently ushered his brother into the passenger seat.

“Sammy, give me your iPod. I’ll play your girly music.”

Sam’s trademark expression made an appearance, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, nose flared out, and the corner of his lips pulled down. He rolled his eyes at Dean. “Not listening to the greatest hits of mullet rock doesn’t make my taste in music girly. And what happened to ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’?”

Dean scowled and snatches iPod, hooking it up. Fall Out Boy assaulted Dean’s ears on the way back to the bunker, but Sam was bobbing his head, belting out the lyrics, so it didn’t matter. It was a struggle to get both of them down the stairs without slipping. Once Sam was sleep, Dean sat at the desk, not letting his brother out of his sight. Never again will Sam have to go through that experience, not on his watch. Wondering why the universe wouldn’t give them a break, Dean put his head down, lulled by soft snores.

_Dean opened the door to his childhood home. He immediately went to where most of his memories were. Yellow splashed walls brightened up the kitchen, creating a homey atmosphere. A beautiful woman had apron on, flour coating it. Her blonde hair was pulled in a ponytail, the ends slightly curled. A fresh blueberry pie was resting on the cooling rack. The other one was in her hands as she headed for the dining room table. A boy, no older than the age of four, looked at her happily. She disappeared for a couple seconds and returns with plates and utensils. Two pairs of green eyes light up when they bit into their dessert._

_Dean blinked, initiating a change in scenery. High pitched wailing pierced the air. Frantically, a man rushed into the room, looking for the cause of disturbance. He carefully lowered his arms into the crib. Crimson, smeared on the infant’s mouth, as well as running down the infant’s forehead, glints in the increasing light. A woman trapped on the ceiling stared down at them, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her white dress was ruined by the laceration in her midsection. Flames licked over the woman, burning every sliver of skin available. A little boy stood in the doorway. The man passed the infant over, urging them out of the house._

_“Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don’t look back! Now, Dean, go!”_

Dean, upset from the memories taunting him, stirred awake. He yawned and stood up, prepared to make some dinner for Sam. Mary intercepted him with a smile before he reached his destination, pulling him towards the library. She pushed him into a chair and sat down opposite of him, igniting exasperation. Doubt crawled into his mind, causing him to question everything, but it was quickly erased when he spotted Castiel peeking around the corner. Fingers grasped his wrists before he ripped them away, uncomfortable with her touching him.

“Are you alright? Did something happen to you?,” Mary implored, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Dean gritted out.

“If nothing is wrong with you, then tell me why you’ve been avoiding me ever since that vampire hunt. It’s been a week and a half, Dean!”

He clenched the armrest, his veins bulging out. “Mary, drop it.”

A loud smack echoed bounced off the walls. Her hand was frozen in the air. Dean began to chuckle, the stinging prominent. Mary looked horrified. “Dean, it was an accident. I would never hit---”

“Do you really believe that this is about me, you son of a bitch?,” he roared, jumping out of the chair. “It’s all about you and the way you’re treating Sam! He has done nothing but try to get to know the mother he has never known, the mother whose pictures were hidden away by his father, the mother he was never allowed to ask about. Who came to me upset when you ignored his presence? Who cried after he realized that you always left him on read, but always replied to me? Who revealed that he thinks that you hate him? Sam!”

“Sam was just a baby when I died and when I was brought back, he was a man in his thirties. I’m awkward around Sam,” Mary retorted, justifying her decision.

“That is the problem right there! Why do you always refer to me as your son and call Sammy by his name? You don’t think I’ve noticed that? And I don’t care how you feel around him. All he was trying to do is get to know his you and you crushed his heart. Every. Goddamn. Day.”

“I’ll make it up to him, Dean, I promise.”

“No. You aren’t allowed anywhere near him, not after what you did.”

Mary shakily stood up, fear shining in her eyes.  
“When Sam was rushed to the hospital, the doctor noticed that a pattern was embedded into his skin and asked Castiel about it. Of course, seeing as he wasn’t there at the time, Cas didn’t know. So after the doctor left the room, he invaded Sam’s mind to figure out how that happened during the hunt. Guess what he told me?”

“...”

“You grabbed Sam and threw him once you saw that he was punching Ketch, which jarred his shoulder. He tried to get up, but you stomped on his wrist, shattering it. He curled himself into a ball and you took advantage of that by kicking him repeatedly. Ketch must be really important, because Sam nearly _died_ on the operating table,” Dean hissed out.

“Mary?”

Her green eyes were dull, reflecting sorrow. “Yes, Dean?”

“I hope for your sake that Sam gets better. Because if he doesn’t, when I find you, and I will find you, I will take you apart,” Dean softly said before going back to Sam’s room, the food long forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at creating fanfiction, so I apologize if it's awful.


End file.
